


If you wanna see me shine...

by dontyoucry



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: First Time, M/M, so soft, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27176204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontyoucry/pseuds/dontyoucry
Summary: He feels out of place in the bar. He knows he looks young for his age and he’s not the most outgoing person in the world so he ends up just feeling awkward. But he wants to be here, needs to get out and meet people. Quinn had a blast at UMich this year, met some great guys and had a good time. But he feels a piece missing. He’s picked a casual bar nestled in between a couple low-key gay bars for a reason. It’s not actually a gay bar itself but it’s in an area that lends itself to an accepting cliental.
Relationships: Connor McDavid/Quinn Hughes
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	If you wanna see me shine...

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Don't ask how I came to this pair because I have no clue. 
> 
> Just enjoy two soft boys being soft

He feels out of place in the bar. He knows he looks young for his age and he’s not the most outgoing person in the world so he ends up just feeling awkward. But he wants to be here, needs to get out and meet people. Quinn had a blast at UMich this year, met some great guys and had a good time. But he feels a piece missing. He’s picked a casual bar nestled in between a couple low-key gay bars for a reason. It’s not actually a gay bar itself but it’s in an area that lends itself to an accepting cliental.

He’s sitting at a high-top table near the bar, nursing a beer, when a group of college aged bros come in. There are four of them, all tall and intimidating, and Quinn starts to avert his eyes when he notices something. The guy in the back, with the sandy blonde hair, is Connor freaking McDavid. He’s so shocked he forgets to look away and McDavid catches him staring. He winks at Quinn but goes back to joking with his friends as they all order drinks. 

Quinn doesn’t know what to do with his body right now, he feels so off kilter. He shouldn’t be so shocked, though, he’s sitting in a bar in Toronto during the off season, why wouldn’t McDavid be here. But there’s another feeling in him, one that he’s been trying to push down for years. 

Quinn knew he was different when he was 12 years old, and he came to terms with his sexuality at 16. A part of that self discovery journey involved making sure he could be around guys like McDavid and not feel anything. Ever since then he’s known to push down _those_ feelings and keep his eye on the prize of professional hockey. He’s had 18 years to train himself not to look at other guys, everyday as he practiced hockey he taught himself not to look.

But Quinn is verging on tipsy and this is Connor McDavid he’s thinking about, every gay hockey players secret crush. McDavid is exactly his type; tall and broad with shining eyes like pools of icy water. He came in laughing at something one of his friends said and Quinn felt his heart skip a little at the sight of his smile, the sound of his happy laugh.

It’s going on 11pm and the bar is definitely starting to have an after dinner feel. It’s getting rowdier and louder and Quinn is on his second beer. He’s trying to put off an air of friendly and approachable. When he went up to order a new drink he made some idle chit-chat with a girl waiting for her own drink but he doesn’t feel like it means anything. Just when Quinn is getting ready to call it quits for the night, Connor freaking McDavid walks up to his table. 

He’s nice to Quinn, not cocky like his earlier wink suggested he might be, he leans in close and speaks softly. 

“Hey, can I be cliche and offer to buy you a drink?” His smile is a little coy, and a little awkward, like he knows it’s a stupid line but also hopes it’s going to work on Quinn. 

Which it does, Quinn blushes immediately, and stammers out an “okay”. McDavid nods and walks to the bar.

He comes back with two beers. 

He asks about Quinn, how he’s doing, how he likes the bar. Quinn answers mildly, he can’t tell if McDavid doesn’t know who he is, or if he’s just acting like he doesn’t to make Quinn more comfortable. Quinn doesn’t ask the same questions back, too nervous to remember things like common sense and basic conversational skill. McDavid ploughs ahead and introduces himself. He gives his real name, which Quinn thinks is bold considering this is Canada and everyone and their dog knows the name Connor McDavid.

But in a way it helps ground Quinn, he’s not hallucinating, Connor McDavid is at his table, has ditched his friends to make small talk with Quinn. But it’s more than small talk. It feels like flirting.

He’s flashing his smile and asking questions to draw Quinn in. Quinn barely has time to process that a first overall pick is talking to (flirting with!) him before he’s being asked more questions.

“Is the beer alright? I couldn’t tell what you were drinking before.”

“Oh. Yeah the beer is dope,” dope?? Quinn knows he can do better than dope. “I mean, it’s good, I’ve had a lot worse at frat parties.” not the strongest finish but Quinn isn’t the strongest talker.

“Are you normally at frat parties?” McDavid looks like he’s excited Quinn is giving more information about himself.

“Uh, well I just finished my first year at the University of Michigan.”

“Are you from there? You don’t sound Canadian.”

“Not really, I moved there three years ago for hockey,” McDavid’s eyes flash at the mention of hockey, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“But I moved a bit growing up. Florida and then Boston, then here, and then Michigan,” Quinn finally realizes McDavid’s game, he wants their hockey life to go unspoken, he’s trying to get to know Quinn from Quinn, not a prospect’s bio. So Quinn plays along. “What about you? Are you from Toronto?”

McDavid spends almost 15 minutes talking to Quinn before Quinn asks if he needs to get back to his friends. 

McDavid laughs and asks, “do you want me to leave?” 

The question strikes Quinn off guard because of how much he wants to beg McDavid, Connor, to stay, he’s having fun talking to the guy actually. Quinn can count on one hand how many people he enjoys talking to like he’s enjoyed talking to Connor and two of those are his brothers.

—

He gets back to the house well after midnight buzzed off of nothing but two beers and Connor. Jack and Luke are still up, watching Old School on cable, and they catch Quinn before he can school the smile off his face. 

“Oh my god, why are you smiling so much?” Jack looks suspicious of Quinn, like there’s no way he thought his brother was going to have a good time.

Quinn doesn’t really confide much in his brothers and telling them about Connor means telling them he’s gay or lying. He’s quiet for too long though, thinking about what to say, and Jack is now actually suspicious of his night out.

“Dude, did you meet someone?”

He doesn’t want to lie outright. One because he loves his brothers and it feels wrong to lie to them. But also because meeting Connor feels important, more than just meeting hockey Jesus, like a pivotal moment in his life or some shit. They made plans to hang out tomorrow so Jack and Luke will probably find out then anyway.

He still tries to play it down though, “yeah, just a couple guys from around here.”

And that’s not technically a lie, Quinn did meet one of the guys that was with Connor, they came over to drag him away to another bar. 

“Laaame,” Luke jeers, “I thought you would have met someone cool or something with that big smile on your face.”

“It just felt good to get out I guess. Without the pressure of hockey surrounding me. I’m going to hang out with them tomorrow too.” He mumbles the last bit like he’s a bit guilty for ditching his brothers even though it hasn’t happened yet. 

“Yeah man that’s cool. Glad you had fun,” Jack says, but Quinn doesn’t trust the tone. It sounds too much like Jack knows he’s leaving parts out.

The subject gets dropped though and Quinn half watches the movie on the TV while he gets ready for bed.

—

He spends the next four days hanging out with Connor. His brothers end up meeting him when Connor comes to pick Quinn up one day. It’s a bit of a catastrophe when they realize that ‘guy from around here’ actually meant Connor McDavid, but they learn to play it cool. The four of them actually end up going out to lunch together, shooting the shit and talking around the subject of hockey. Quinn likes how accepting of Luke and Jack Connor is, especially Luke. Connor is nice to the kid, including him in the conversation and making sure nothing is inappropriate or goes over his head.

At the end of the third day Quinn is so bursting with joy that this handsome, sweet, guy likes him and gets along with his brothers that he takes the plunge. 

After dinner with his family, Quinn meets Connor at a small bar that Connor had picked out for privacy. They talk well into the night and eventually Quinn says he needs to get back home. Connor, a true gentleman, takes Quinn all the way to his front door.

“Thanks for a great evening,” Quinn says. He can’t quite look Connor in the eyes because if he does he’ll back out of what he wants to do next. 

“Anytime,” normally Connor sounds confident and relaxed but to Quinn that sounded nervous.

The air around them feels charged to Quinn and before he talks himself out of it he’s on his tiptoes reaching up to kiss Connor.

Connor reacts instantly, pulling Quinn close from around the waist and cupping his jaw in his large hand. Quinn hasn’t kissed a ton of people before but he’s pretty sure Connor is a really good kisser by anyone’s standards. It turns into a deeper kiss as Connor takes control, lowering Quinn back to flat feet and at the same time backing him into his car door. 

Quinn loses himself in the moment. 

Before any hands can start wandering, though, Connor breaks the kiss but doesn’t step back.

“Wow I’ve wanted to do that all week.”

Quinn blushes, both from the kiss that just happened and the thought that Connor wants him. 

“Me too,” and this time it’s Quinn who smiles coyly.

They probably look like idiots, Quinn thinks in passing, staring dopely at each other. It doesn’t matter though because Connor is looking at him with yearning in those crystal blue eyes and Quinn doesn’t care about anything else.

He steps away though, because his brothers are probably awake inside and he has something he needs to tell them. And because if they go any further Quinn might end up at Connor’s place tonight.

With a happy, “see you tomorrow,” Quinn unlocks his door.

Like he expected, his brothers are awake, playing something on their phones together if the way they are yelling at each other is anything to go by. Quinn says, “hey,” goes to the kitchen to get some water.

Luke yells and Jack laughs so Quinn assumes Jack has just won whatever game they were playing.

“How was your date?” Luke asks as Quinn comes back into the living room. Quinn tenses a bit but lets it go because this is the perfect way into what he wants to do tonight.

“It was really good.” He says casually

“Wait, so it really was a date,” Jack probably meant it as a question but it comes out more of a statement to Quinn.

“Um… Yeah, it was,” he rushes it out quietly like if he says it fast enough and soft enough they’ll just breeze past it.

They don’t.

Both boys jump up to crowd Quinn’s space, talking over each other. 

Quinn is taken aback by his brothers’ reaction. From what he can make out it’s a lot more ‘why didn’t you tell us,’ and ‘I knew it,’ than disgust and anger. Eventually, Quinn gets them to quiet down, he doesn’t want his parents to wake up. 

The three brothers stay up way too late catching up on each other’s lives. Both Jack and Luke are supportive and excited for Quinn and his budding relationship with Connor. Later, as he lay in bed trying to calm down enough to go to sleep, Quinn is grateful for his brothers. Even if this thing with Connor goes nowhere, he’s happy it pushed him to come out to them. But as he drifts off he knows Connor is going to be important. 

—

A month later, it turns out Connor wasn’t just a fling. A few weeks ago Connor left to go train with some teammates, and Quinn has been practically velcroed to his phone since. They talk about everything, Quinn feels so comfortable with Connor, even over text. It also turns out that Connor is a great distraction and a great source of advice as Quinn prepares for the draft.

Once they breach the topic of hockey they only grow closer. If anyone understands pressure, it’s Connor and he’s not cocky or egotistical about his skills. He listens to Quinn when he talks about how scared he is of the draft and he doesn't judge. 

Quinn has wanted to play in the NHL since he was three years old and skated for the first time. He fell down, gliding across the ice and was sold on the concept of doing this forever. Now though, the thought of actually getting drafted has him feeling woozy most days. He knows he’s going kind of high, not top three but probably to a team that needs all the help they can get, like Detroit or Vancouver, maybe Chicago. And that’s scary. He’s never had to rebuild a team before, never been a part of something like that. So he turns to Connor, a guy who is already the face of a struggling franchise.

>Hey, I’m freaking out. Can you talk? Like on the phone<

Quinn isn’t normally so open and upfront about his feelings. He needs Connor’s help though, his soothing voice and calming words.

>Yeah call whenever you’re ready<

It’s three days before the draft and Quinn had been packing his bag for Dallas when he realized just what that meant. Now Quinn is sitting on the floor crowded back into a corner of his room. He’s breathing a little heavily, feels his fingers tingling a bit. He bits his lip and holds his breath to bring himself under control. His hands were shaking when he texted Connor but they’ve settled around his pulled up knees now. The ringing is loud in his ears as he calls Connor but luckily he picks up on the second ring.

“You’re okay,” Connor soothes immediately, like he already knows what’s bothering Quinn just from his vague text.

“I can’t do this Connor.”

“Get drafted? Play in the NHL? Of course you can.”

“What if I go somewhere terrible?” 

“Like Edmonton?”

That gets a laugh out of Quinn even if it’s a little sniffly. Quinn is still freaking out though, the thought of getting drafted too big to wrap his head around. He wants to be cool and act like it’s no big deal but he’s worked his whole life for this moment so it is a _huge_ deal to him.

“Why am I freaking out?” he asks just this side of desperate.

“Because this means a lot to you. It’s okay to freak out a little, Quinn. The night before my draft I threw up before I could fall asleep.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was a fucking mess.” Connor says while laughing at himself. Quinn can picture the smile on Connor’s face as he talks and it soothes him.

“Can we facetime?”

A few hours later, Quinn is laughing as he finishes zipping his packed bag.

—

The night before the draft, Quinn goes to dinner with his family out in Dallas. He’s nervous all through dinner but not because of the draft tomorrow. No, instead Quinn is internally freaking out because he’s decided tonight would be a good night to come out to his parents. His brothers know his plan, and he’s sure his parents think he’s quiet at dinner because of the draft.

There’s a lull in the conversation after they place their orders. It’s now or never Quinn thinks. He has a speech, one that gives it to them easy, about how this doesn’t change anything and he’s still their same son and this won’t change his hockey career because he’s not going to come out while he’s playing.

Instead the words fall out of his mouth like he’s asking if he should have gotten salmon instead of steak.

It’s out there now, ‘I’m gay’ hanging in the air like axe body spray in a looker room.

Silence.

Silence. 

He probably should have come out tomorrow… or never.

“Quinn, sweetie, are you sure?” His mom asks. 

He wants to tell her no, that he’s not sure and actually just to forget he said anything. But his eyes connect with Jack’s across the table and his brother gives a slight nod in encouragement and support so he clamps down on the doubt and ploughs forward.

“Yeah mom, I’m sure.”

His parents look at each other. Quinn waits for them to have their secret telepathic conversation parents are so good at having. Finally, they look back to him.

“We love you Quinn.” His father assures.

“And we always will. No matter what.” His mom backs up.

“But, are you telling us this because you plan on coming out tomorrow?”

“No. I don’t. I just thought before I start the next stage of my life, you two should know.”

“Thank you, Quinn, for telling us.” And his mom sounds sincere, she’s using the same voice she uses when he had a good game and he calls her after and she picks up even though it’s past midnight in Toronto and tells him he did well and she’s proud of him.

Quinn starts to breathe normally again. He feels so good about his parents accepting him that he goes a step further.

“And I’ve kind of been seeing Connor McDavid.”

—

“Vancouver selects, from the University of Michigan, Quinn Hughes.”

Electricity rushes through him. The uncertainty is over, he’s going to Vancouver. He hugs Luke, he hugs Jack, his mom, a host of other people.

It’s cliche, but the rest of the night goes by in a blur. Quinn doesn’t remember how many interviews he does, or how many times he says thank you or congratulations to other people. He hugs Brady like sixteen times, both laughing like little kids. Somehow, he ends up back with his family heading back to the hotel. He can’t totally feel his feet as he walks to his room, still on cloud nine. He’s sharing a room with Jack so his brother does the hard stuff like remembering a keycard and unlocking the door. Quinn keeps saying, ‘wow,’ every five minutes like he keeps remembering that he just got drafted. Jack only rolls his eyes and leaves him alone.

The fog starts to clear from Quinn’s mind as the adrenaline leaves his body and the reality of his new life is crystal clear: he’s going to play in the NHL. Well probably, he doesn’t want to get too ahead of himself yet. He’s trying to find his phone to call Connor when there’s a knock at the door.

Connor is in Dallas doing league stuff for the draft so Quinn shouldn’t be so surprised to see him on the other side of his hotel room door, but he is. 

Connor only says, “hey,” before Quinn starts crying. 

This night has been a lot for Quinn okay, and seeing his boyfriend here to congratulate him opens the floodgates. 

They go out for a late dinner with the whole Hughes family and truly celebrate. His parents seem to have accepted the news Quinn dealt to them last night and are very nice to Connor. They even bow out early and take his brothers with them, which Quinn is surprised by but grateful for.

Now it’s just the two of them, sitting in a back corner of a nearly deserted restaurant. Quinn has another flood of adrenaline come over him. He hasn’t actually been near Connor in about a month, he’s been hopping around training with different guys and Quinn has been stuck in Toronto. This thing between them is intense, important, but still new and fragile. They’ve only kissed a handful of times and Connor has always stopped it before it went any further. But Quinn is basically an NHL player now, and he wants more from Connor. 

“I think we should get out of here,” Quinn suggests, partly for his forming plan and also because the wait staff seems to be trying to clean up around them. 

“Oh,” Connor says as he too notices that they’ve probably outstayed their welcome. “Yeah, I’ll walk you back to your hotel.”

“No!” 

Quinn should probably learn to act cooler at some point in his life.

“I mean, why don’t we go back to your room,” He tries to sound confident and sure and a little bit saucy.

Connor smiles at him, Quinn thinks it’s a bit of a goofy smile, like Connor thinks Quinn’s attempt at sultry was more endearing than embarrassing. Quinn feels his face flush and a rush of affection through his body. Connor is a good guy. 

—

Quinn is back to that feeling from before, of not being able to fully feel his feet and fog clouding his mind again. There’s a lot of media around the Dallas area right now so they don’t touch as they make their way to Connor’s hotel. But as soon as they’re in the relative privacy of the elevator, Connor grabs his hand. His hand is warm wrapped around Quinn’s hand, and it brings their size difference into the forefront. Quinn never feels small on the ice, but standing tucked against Connor’s side the three inches between them feels bigger than normal and Quinn realizes he likes it. He likes that he fits right into Connor’s side, can lean against him and Connor is a strong presence holding him up.

The elevator dings, bringing Quinn out of his thoughts. Connor smiles down at him as he pulls Quinn out of the elevator. Connor’s smile is one of Quinn’s favorite things, it always reaches his eyes and brightens them, he doesn’t smile if he doesn’t mean it so each smile is a sign that Connor is genuinely happy. 

Once the door shuts behind both of them, Connor drops Quinn’s hand and says very seriously, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

And that washes away any doubt or uncertainty in Quinn’s mind. He pulls Connor close and kisses him with intention. 

They take it slow. Connor checking in every step of the way to make sure Quinn is ok, and Quinn is okay with all of it. He thinks he’s a little in love with Connor already. The way Connor touches him is gently and reverent. Quinn feels tears in his eyes as Connor lays him out on the bed, but not out of fear or sadness, no they are truly tears of joy burning at the back of his eyes. 

Soon enough though, they’ve cleared and Quinn is determined to be an active participant in this. He grips tight to Connor’s biceps as they kiss, trying to flip Connor on his back, but Connor has him solidly trapped.

“Don’t. I want to take care of you,” Connor whispers. “Relax, Quinn.”

The way Connor says his name is enough to get Quinn to loosen up and lie back.

Connor takes good care of him.

—

Quinn wakes with a start three hours later. His eyes feel fuzzy and he’s over heating. Where is he? What is this oppressive heat? Why does he feel sore? 

Slowly the night comes back to him in pieces. The draft. Vancouver. Connor. Dinner. Connor.

Connor. 

Quinn looks behind him on the bed and there’s Connor freaking McDavid curled around the space Quinn had been sleeping in. He’s smiling like an idiot, he knows, but wow. Quinn takes a few moments to just watch Connor sleep. Not in, like a creepy way just, it’s nice to see Connor relaxed like this. He’s snoring a little and one hand is reaching out like he’s trying to find Quinn in his sleep.

Quinn needs to get back to his hotel so he has to break this moment of peace for Connor. 

“Connor,” he whispers, shaking Connor’s shoulder. 

“Connor,” a little louder.

“Huh?” Connor jolts awake. Quinn feels bad for startling him but he’s pretty adorable when he’s confused.

“Quinn?”

“Hey,” Quinn soothes quietly, “I have to get back to my hotel.”

“Oh, okay, yeah. Um, let me take you back.” Connor offers, blinking slowly and rubbing at his eyes

“No it’s okay, I can make it back by myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s only down the block,” Quinn reminds. 

He stretches and starts to leave the tangle of sheets they’re in. Before he can actually get out of bed though, Connor wraps his arms around Quinn’s waist.

“How do you feel?” He asks, resting his chin on Quinn’s shoulder.

Quinn blushes. Honestly, he feels great. He’s tired and sore and different, but he also feels grateful, and excited and a little like he’s glowing. This night was a night of highs and Quinn feels like he’s never going to come down.


End file.
